


Gaining Memories

by sasstian



Category: Bucky Barnes - Fandom, Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Winter Soldier (Comics)
Genre: Dancing, F/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-05
Updated: 2015-08-08
Packaged: 2018-04-02 23:39:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4078312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sasstian/pseuds/sasstian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This chapter is in Bucky's point of view. I'm sorry that it's short.</p></blockquote>





	1. Messy Hair

I walked out of the theatre, forcing a smile on my face to please John. I was going to be performing in a different theatre while the other was being used for a musical and opera. The manager apparently had a brain fart and forgot that we had a big performance coming up. I hate last moment changes.  
"Are you coming to the show? I've been working hard." I questioned my boyfriend. He hadn't been able to make it to the last few because he was busy with work. The past few months had been difficult.   
"Only if you move in with me." John replied and I sighed. I didn't want to move in with him yet. We've been dating for a while, but dancing was more important to me than moving in with a guy.   
"So no. John, you promised that you would come three shows ago!"  
"Bella, I have been extremely busy with work. All you do is flounce around in little outfits. You could get a lot more money and save yourself the hard work by switching jobs. You do have the body for it."  
I scoffed and moved away from him.I loved dancing more than life and I didn't want to become a stripper because John said so. I think that what those women do are amazing, but it's not really the kind of dancing I want to do.   
"I think I'll stay with the company. Since you have nothing at my place, this will be a clean break."  
"Claribella! You better stop walking away from me. We aren't done."  
"I do what I want, John. I want to dance in the best company in the country and that's what I'm doing. I'm living my dream and I don't really need a person like you trying to get me to change."   
I turned my head quickly, feeling my messy bun bounce on my head, and gracefully strode down the alleyway. I don't need anyone, I chanted to myself. I tried to calm my rapid breathing. John was growling somewhere behind me. I glanced over my shoulder and he was closer to me than I expected.   
"Move away from me." I tried to keep my voice calm, but it shook. I stepped back a few feet, but he just moved closer. There was such little space between the two of us that I could feel his hot breath on my face. I usually like it, but it was scary this time. "John, please stop this. I know you're a good man."  
I took another quivering breath, trying as hard as I could to control my fear. I had been in many relationships like this that I shouldn't be scared about getting hit anymore, but I still am. Trying to breathe after you have the wind knocked out of you is difficult. Wheezing noises escaped my lips as I pushed myself off the ground. John didn't stop with knocking me on the ground. He needed to finish what he started was what he always told me when he was working on a business deal. I guess it applied to this also. I'm not sure why I kept trying to get off the ground.   
"Stop," I cried out weakly towards him. I could barely get air into my lungs and when I could, it burned.   
The street lamp provided little light in the darkened alley. It was just becoming dark and not very many people were out. I wondered how long it would be until someone found me or the time it would take me to get home. As I rolled over, I noticed a pair of feet walking towards me and I froze in fear that John was coming back.   
"Don't hurt me.. Please." I pleaded breathlessly. "I'm s-s-sorry.."  
"I'm not going to hurt you." A voice rang out from above me. It wasn't John.  
"LEAVE! This doesn't involve you." John shouted, making me cringe.   
Air burned in my lungs as I pushed myself against the wall. The stranger and John glared at each other in the dim light. The only detail I could see on him was that he has messy hair. I watched his hair as he moved around John, hitting him hard with his left hand. It was just a mop of brown hair, flopping every which way when he moved just the slightest.   
"He's not going to hurt you again," the messy haired man squatted down to my level.   
"Did you kill him?" I whispered.  
"No. Let me take you home."  
"Who are you?" I groaned as I stood with his help. My body ached everywhere.   
"Bucky Barnes."


	2. Don't Have Any Place

I stayed on Bucky's right side as we walked down the street, so no one could see the damage to my left side. To people passing by, we looked like a couple out for a stroll. It hurt to walk, but I didn't want to seem weak to Bucky so I tried not to think about it.  
"Thank you, Bucky." I thanked him after a few minutes of walking in silence.   
"Don't worry about it." His voice was low, controlled, and emotionless. "Who was he?"  
"My boyfriend. Well ex-boyfriend, John. He's not the first man to hit me."  
He stopped walking and when I glanced back at him, his eyes were full of anger. I slowly walked towards him, careful about what I was doing. I reached a hand out towards him, but I was scared to touch him. The look on his face was terrifying.   
"Bucky," I comforted. "I'm alive because of you. You saved me."  
I held my breath as he stood still. I watched his jacketed chest rise and fall rapidly, waiting for it to slow just a bit. I took one step closer and laid my hand on his chest.   
"I am forever indebted to you." Ever so slowly, I felt his breathing slow and when I dared to look in his eyes, the anger had left, but a hint of it was still there.   
"You don't owe me anything." He swiped my hand off his chest and began to walk again. I shook my head and tried to catch up to him.   
"Where are you from?" I questioned when I reached his side again. "I'm from Los Angeles."  
"I am from..." His voice drifted off, leaving the sentence unfinished. I didn't press him for anymore information. He was a terrifying man. "I don't have any place."  
"Stay with me. I'll help you get on your feet." I stepped in front of him. "It is the only way I can think to repay you for stopping John."  
I wanted to help the man who stopped John from hurting me further and possibly ending my career. I don't care if he stayed for a night or an hour. I wanted to help the man who saved my life but he was making it difficult.   
I sighed when he didn't respond. "Well, goodbye, Bucky. Thank you for the help." I turned on my right foot and started to walk away again. It was very painful to walk, but there was no other way to get home. Thankfully it was only a few more blocks.   
"What's your name?" He shouted from where he stood like a statue.   
Halting my feet, I turned around and grinned. "Claribella Estrella. I'm a dancer at the National Dance Company. One of the best. Have a good night, Mr. Barnes."  
I made it the rest of the way to my apartment without anymore interruptions. I unlocked the door and stepped into the empty place. I used to share it with one of the other dancers and close friend, Amy, but she moved to Los Angeles with her boyfriend and got another job with a different company. I missed her dearly.   
After tossing my keys onto the table next to my beat up couch, I headed to the bathroom to wash off the blood. I put on a loose shirt, ordered pizza, then decided to watch some television. A little while later, there was a knock at the door.   
I stood shocked, staring at Bucky standing in my doorway. He blushed slightly when he looked down and saw I was only wearing a shirt. I wasn't sure what to do so I stood back and let him walk in.   
"Why are you here? Thought that you didn't need any help because 'you're so cool and mysterious and manly'." I used air quotes to get my point across. He was so strange.   
"I don't really want to sleep on a bench again." He stated and looked around my apartment.  
"I told you before that you could stay here and you were like 'Nnnoooo. I'm too cool for that'. Did you swallow your pride? Did it pain your heart to knock on my door?"  
There was another knock and this time it was the pizza delivery guy. I smiled politely, paid him, and took my pizza. I set it on my counter and turned back to him.  
"You going to stay silent or can you talk?"  
"Why are you so angry? I stopped that man from hurting you even more and this is how you repay me?"  
"I'm giving you food, a bed to sleep in, a shower. Everything that is necessary to feel human. I'm sorry if I'm upset with you. I have a huge program to perform in two days, I just got beat up by the person I thought would never hurt me, I invited a strange man into my home because he helped me and now he's asking me why I'm angry! I have every right to be angry, but I'm not angry at you. I'm angry at myself."  
He stood silently for a few seconds then ran a hand through his hair. "What food do you have?"  
"Pizza, a lot of healthy food, and water."  
"Pizza would be nice, Claribella."  
I nodded and grabbed two plates down. I put a few slices on each and headed back into the living room. Curling up into the corner, I flipped on the television and searched for something to watch.   
"Do you mind watching the History Channel? I love it."  
He quietly shook his head. I clicked on the show and leaned back. It was about the outcome of World War 2. I loved learning about that time; it always interested me. I finished my food and began to get up, catching a glance of Bucky out the side of my eye. He had a tight grip on the plate and I noticed one hand was shiny.   
I wasn't sure what to do, so I washed my plate then stood awkwardly. If he was going through something by watching the show I put on, should I change it? I was so confused on what was the best way to go about this. I wasn't going to ask him about his arm, I was going to change the channel then make an excuse to go clean the second bedroom.   
Trying to seem normal, I flopped ungracefully on the couch and grabbed the remote. As I went to press guide, his hand shot out and gripped my arm tightly. I gasped for air because his hand was freezing and the grip was hard.   
"Don't change it." He spit out every word with some emotion I couldn't describe.   
"O-o-ok. I'm going to clean out the other room for you," I smiled politely at him. "I will leave the remote next to you, if you want to change it. Please let me go. Please..."   
His blue eyes were cold. I couldn't pull my chocolate eyes away from his. Bucky mesmerized my entire mind and I couldn't figure out any particular reason why. His grip tightened on my arm and I gasped.   
"You... You said that you wouldn't hurt me, Bucky." I felt tears slide down my nose and I clenched my eyes shut. "Bucky, please don't hurt me."   
"I..." He dropped my wrist and just stared at the television screen. "I'm sorry."  
Nodding, I stood up quickly and headed to the empty bedroom that I stored my point shoes in. Making the bed took longer that I thought because the sheets weren't cooperating and I couldn't find my shoes. Usually I grabbed them in the morning, but I didn't want to anger him even more by disrupting his sleep. He was capable of using force and I didn't want to do that again.   
"All done," I rubbed my hands on my legs and rocked on my feet. "The bathroom is at the end of the hall. Do you have clothes?"  
Again with the silent treatment, he shook his head. I still had a few of my brother's clothes when he stayed a few months ago. He always forgets things at my place. After searching for a few minutes, I finally found a couple shirts and pants.   
"Here," I held the items out to him. "You can keep them."  
"Thank you, Claribella. Is your wrist hurt?"  
"I've had worse. Anyways, I'm going to bed. Have a long day ahead of me and need all the beauty sleep I can get. Good night, Bucky."  
"You don't need any beauty rest." He mumbled as I walked to my bedroom.


	3. Dance Rehearsal

Just as I always have, I started my morning routine. Light stretching, 2 mile run, shower, eat a breakfast of fruit and oatmeal. Rechecking my bag, I tossed over my shoulder and was about to leave when I remembered that Bucky was in my spare bedroom. At least he was there last night. I quickly jotted down a note, left and spare key, then headed to work.  
Nothing was different from the previous days. Same receptionist, same dancers, and the same building. I liked the familiar sensation that I felt inside this building especially after all the events of yesterday. Some bruises and scrapes covered my body, but I made sure to cover them with foundation. No one needed to know what happened and I wasn't sure how to explain my new roommate to my friends. Maybe it won't come up, I thought hopefully.   
Halfway through the day, we went to the theater to do a dress rehearsal. I tried my best to avoid the alleyway, but it was the way we entered and exit. Only door we had a key for.   
My mind flashed back to the night before. Punches landing on my face, sliding across the concrete ground, going in and out of consciousness. Seeing Bucky come to help me. Shaggy haired, blue eyed, shiny left armed Bucky.   
Shutting my eyes tightly didn't erase the painfulness of last night. All the memories were extremely vivid, my body ached from the blows I took, but I had things to do. I was the lead dancer in this production so I couldn't waste anytime.   
"Claribella, are you coming?" Eliia called to me.   
"Yeah," I hitched my bag higher on my shoulder and entered the theater.   
"You seem kind of out of it."   
"Last night was eventful."  
"So John isn't coming to see you preform?"  
"Nope. He's never coming to any of my performances ever again."   
"You guys ended things?"  
"Yeah." I ran my hand over my eyes. "Pretty badly too."  
"Did he get physical?"  
And there goes my good day. I could've answered her questions differently, but she deserved the truth. She was the closest thing she had to a sister. Pulling her into an empty area, I quickly told her about everything that happened. The foundation on my wrist was starting to rub off, so being the amazing person she is, she reapplied it to my wrist.   
"No more alleyways for you." She joked.   
"Can you- can you stay with me while I change?" I stuttered out. "I don't want the others to see my body. Some scratches aren't covered."  
"Of course, honey." Eliia hugged me gently and we went back to my dressing room.   
Our bags thunked on the floor as we looked around. There was so much beauty in it even though it was old. It has barely been touched since the 40s. The dance company rented it from the owners family for a while. There was so much to take in at once. It was like stepping into the past with it's old wooden floors with walls to match and light fixtures that you usually see in movies.   
"This is amazing," I whispered to myself. Now I see why they choose this place.   
"It totally fits our choreography." Eliia sounded just as amazed as I did.  
A woman surviving the war, but her lover didn't. Only to have him reappear to many years later. They're finally get to do all things they didn't do when they were young. Her memories start going and the only thing she knows is that he was lost to the war. It ends with him visiting her grave, closing a book. He was telling her all the things he thought and loved about her. It's almost like they are young lovers again without a care in the world.   
It's a hauntingly beautiful story. So far she has been one of my favorite characters to preform. I change costumes multiple times and my movements become slower. The trick is to make them beautiful and painful at the same time.   
Almost every outfit fit me perfectly. My favorite one was a nightgown that flowed loosely from my body with only a red ribbon tied under my breasts. It flared when I spun and it felt like an extension of me.   
My makeup was going to be the same with only changes in my lipstick. My hair was in a simple bun and I was really glad for that. It suited the girl better. She's simple, but elegant.   
The day that I thought was ruined was slowly becoming good again. Eliia was coming over for dinner so I wasn't alone with Bucky, if he still was at my apartment. Dancing helped work out the aches and tired me out. Sleep evaded me last night as I thought about what happened with John and how I had a stranger in my apartment.   
He obviously has issues to work out. And he probably didn't want a random person pestering him about it. Bucky said that he didn't have anywhere to go last night. I wonder what he meant by that and why did he get so upset about the World War II documentary. He was mysterious and I wanted to know why. Maybe I could find something out tonight if he is still in my apartment.


	4. Pointed Toes and Metal Arms

Eliia walked me home after rehearsal, making sure that I was safe and secure. I told her that I could make it inside by myself. I still wasn't ready to reveal that I had a strange man in my apartment. That probably wasn't the smartest way to go about this, but I needed to learn more about him. If he was there.  
My muscles ached, but it was a different ache from this morning. A welcome one, a familiar one that always came from dancing for hours.   
I expected for my apartment to be empty, silent, devoid of any life. My television was on, the news anchor reporting on an earthquake. Setting my bag on the entry table, I glanced around. Bucky wasn't in the living room. Maybe he left and forgot to turn off my television.  
"Well, at least he didn't sleep on a bench last night," I mumbled, walking to the fridge. My stomach was growling, wanting the food it had been denied for hours.   
I jumped over the back of the couch, ready to relax from another long day. Bucky was gone and I was alone again. I needed another roommate. As I landed, the ratty, blue couch grunted and threw me to the ground. My head bounced off the thin carpet and my vision blurred. The stalks of celery I had just grabbed were thrown across the room by the figure that was on my couch. My breath was caught in my throat, my vision was filled with dark spots, and a heavy pressure was on top on my body.  
I could hear his heavy breathing and the cold touch of his left hand was on throat. The spots disappeared and what I saw scared me to the bone. The blue eyes I had seen last night were gone. The eyes I saw now held no emotion or anything human. His face was pinched in concentration. He was going to kill me. And I couldn't do anything to stop it.   
"B-b-bucky... Can't breat..." My words were weak and difficult to force out.   
"Who are you?! How do you know me?" He yelled. When I didn't answer, he lifted my body off the ground and pressed me against the wall. "Who are you?"  
"Clari... bel...la Estr....ell....a." I wheezed out, hoping that he would snap out of his trance and remember the events from the night before. "You... saved me..."  
Now that I was against the wall, I could move my hands. I reached for his face, trying to shove him away. I knew that I had to try to snap him out of it, but it was proving harder than I thought. And I thought it was going to be impossible.   
His left arm, his shiny arm, was metal and a red star adorned it like a tattoo. My fists pounded against it uselessly, each hit getting weaker and weaker. His hand was stopping the small amount of air I could suck into my lungs. I was losing my vision again, blurring around the edges then going black. The last thing I was saw was his metal arm shifting, like a flexed muscle. 

***  
I was alone in the dance studio. Everyone else was gone, done practicing for today. The familiar feel of my pointe shoes and the barre was comforting and I began to float around the floor.  
As I turned, I could see glimpses of other people, but I was alone in the room. I knew I was. The only sounds were my breathing and the rhythmic sound of my feet hitting the ground.   
The other people I saw in the wall of mirrors had similar features. Shaggy brown hair, crisp blue eyes, wide shoulders. Slowly they bled into each other until they were a single person. I stopped moving and the person just stared at me.   
I moved my arm out to the side and the person mimicked my movements. When I put it back down, I went up on my toes and performed a first Arabesque. The figure copied my movements again. When I was back on my two feet, I stepped towards the mirrors.  
Shaggy brown hair, blue eyes, and a metal arm. He was staring back at me. I couldn't escape his gaze, no matter what I did. I placed my hand on glass, expecting to feel the coolness, but I felt warmth. I was coming from the other side of the panel. Tears pricked my eyes and I leaned my head against the glass, seeping up more of the warmth that was coming through the mirror.   
When I looked up, he was gone. I was staring myself. Long brown hair, brown eyes, and long limbs. I turned away from the mirror and the air that entered my lungs burned. Every movement hurt. I was dying...  
***  
I opened my eyes and looked around the room. It was my bedroom. Dance awards hung on the walls, surrounded by goofy pictures and masks. My breathing was normal, but it still burned as air traveled down my throat and my hands ached. Just what I needed. More injuries   
I sat up and moved to push myself off the bed, when I felt a hand on my back. Every muscle in my body seized and I couldn't bring myself to turn around.  
"I didn't mean to cause you pain." Bucky spoke quietly, but with precision as if he had been going over and over it for a while.  
"You did. And I don't know what to think." I replied with a hoarse and shaking voice.   
"I have problems I need to work through. I don't want to hurt you... Or anyone else."  
"I don't want you to sleep on another bench..." I stopped to process my thoughts. He has PTSD and no place to sleep. Would letting him live with me make up for him saving my life even though he almost just ended it? Was he going to do it again? The one thing I knew was that I was scared. "I want to help you, but... I don't know how."  
"You're scared of me."  
I whirled around to stare at him. "Wouldn't you be if you were in my shoes? If the person who saved your life one day, almost ends it the next?" I was shaking with anger, not fear anymore.   
I think he understood what I was saying. He looked down at his hands and my gaze followed.   
"How did you get your metal arm? It's not a normal prosthetic." I wanted some answers and I hoped that he would answer them. Maybe he knew that they only way he could regain my trust was to answer.   
"I was injured when I was young. Fell off a train... A man found me laying in the snow and gave me a new arm. It's stronger than my old arm."  
"Do you ever miss it? Your real arm?"  
"I don't know." When he looked up from his hands, I saw something that I recognized. Uncertainty.   
His right hand pushed his sleeve up and I saw where his arm was attached. It was surgically implanted unlike other prosthetic limbs. It was almost to his neck, just a few inches away. Scars stretched around the metal. It had to been painful when he first got it.   
"I thought you were gone. I didn't see you on the couch and I should have. I'm sorry, Bucky."  
"Claribella..." The way he said my name shocked me. He was acting so humanly, so different than earlier.   
"Stay. I want to help." I stood up. "Now, I'm going to eat and we're going to talk. And tomorrow, I would like to introduce you to a few people. Is that OK?"  
All the response I got was a nod. He was still sitting on my bed, looking like something that belonged in a museum.


	5. Research

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is in Bucky's point of view. I'm sorry that it's short.

I joined Claribella for her morning routine. After the hellicarriers crashed, I found it was easier to organize my head while running. Claribella still seemed rattled from last night and I was, too. I've never exploded like that on anyone before. The problem with staying with her is that I could hurt her again. And if she was hospitalized by me... I shook the thought out of my head, hoping that it would never come to that. My memories of my actions last night horrified me. Her choking out words, the look of panic in her eyes, her fists pounding on my arm. The pounding of her shoes on the pavement stopped and I turned to face her. 

"Bucky, thank you for running with me." Her cheeks stretched as she smiled while swallowing large breaths of air. She probably loved the feeling of it after I nearly crushed her throat. "It's been quiet since my roommate moved out."

"I like running." I shrugged. The awkwardness of being around her was terrible. She led me up to her apartment to get to the next part of her routine. 

As we stepped into the apartment, she basically flew across the place to get her clothes and take a shower. It looked like her feet never touched the ground, always floating a few inches from the floor. It was very graceful compared to my stomping feet. I bet she didn't even notice she walks like that. Her graceful, but determined steps were part of what amazed me about her. The other part was how she let me stay after what I did last night. Sighing, I ran a hand over my scraggly beard. What was I going to do?

Claribella floated out of the bathroom, hair wrapped in a towel and face pinched in thought. I was too ashamed to look in her eyes so I stared at her nose. Stopping front of me, she stretched up to reveal her muscle abdomen. 

“Today is the last day of rehearsal before the opening night of our latest program. It’s during World War II. I wanted you to know because of how you reacted to the documentary.” She shifted her weight from one foot to another. She was nervous to talk about this. “I’m lead which is a woman who loses her lover in the war, but he appears years later. They grow old together, but when her memory starts to go she doesn’t remember anything past him not returning. The entire time, he’s reading to her from his journal after she has died.”

“I would like to attend.” 

“Awesome!” She smiled. “I have to finish getting ready. I gave a break in the afternoon and I was wondering if you wanted to get some lunch? You don’t have to stay inside all day.”

“Sure.” 

Nodding, she walked off. Maybe I could learn more about her. Do some research to know more about her childhood. She said she was one of the best dancers so there had to be information somewhere. 

“I’ll see you later, Bucky!” She shouted from the doorway. 

“Have a good day, Claribella.” 

**  
I spent the morning researching on her laptop. It was pretty easy to get into. I learned a lot about her and her life wasn’t the greatest. 

Hypermetbolism was a constant problem in her life caused by a head injury she sustained as a child. A fellow dancer accidentally bumped her off stage though there were rumors it wasn’t an accident. She has to eat all the time to keep her at a healthy weight. 

After that, she was shipped to about every country so she could learn every style of dance. She was a prodigy, one of the best dancers in the world. Claribella spent many years in Russia, being trained by the best dance instructors. 

Being the best dancer in the world means that there is no time for family or personal relationships. Her family lives in Hawaii, living off her glory and having very little involvement of her life. 

I wondered if how she grew up affected how she thought and the relationships she has developed. My mind drifted to how they broke me down, erased my memories and made me a monster. What if they did the same to her? But instead of being trained to kill, she was trained to float across the ground. 

Maybe we were more alike than I originally thought…


	6. Mucnhies and Memories

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is also in Bucky's point of view!! Enjoy. It will pick up int eh next few chapters. And Bucky's chapter are probably always going to be short

Claribella rushed into her apartment, once again floating a few inches off the ground. Her once-perfect bun was coming undone, pieces falling into her face and stayed there from the sweat. She wasn’t collected, as she was this morning.

“Get up! We have to go to lunch!” She shouted from the bathroom, which was shortly followed by the sound of hairspray. “Bucky!”

“I’m ready, Claribella.” I pulled a jacket over my metal arm. She rushed by me, trying to complete another task, but I grabbed her arm. “Are you okay? Did something happen?” 

She flinched when I touched her, so I dropped my hand and avoided her gaze that reminded me of Steve. Always seeing something that others don’t. Claribella triggered memories that were wiped away over 70 years ago. Pain and memories flooded my mind causing me to stumble back and close my eyes. 

Steve laughing at a stupid joke I told. Playing games in the streets around our houses. Talking about what we were going to do when we were adults. Hugging after his mother died. Finding out about another try to enlist in the Army. His scream as I fell into the snow-filled canyon. 

“Bucky?” Her concerned voice pierced the veil that I was surrounded in. “It’s okay. We’ll get through this. Together.”

What did she mean together?

“I’m not going to let anything happen to you. I’ll protect you.”

That would be a sight to see. Graceful, beautiful Claribella punching someone is the face. It brought a smile to my face. 

“We don’t have to go. We can stay if you don’t think you can interact with others. I won’t force you to do anything. Hell, you can even stay home instead of going to watch me dance.”

I watched her as she rattled on about helping me and it just shocked me. A woman I had hurt twice was still willing to help me. I didn’t deserve it. I should leave her alone and not bother her with my problems… She has her own life. 

“I would like to watch you dance,” I muttered and rubbed the back of my neck. She should probably hate me, but doesn’t. Like Steve… 

“Are you sure the crowd won’t be a problem? And usually people dress formally.” Claribella bit her bottom lip as she thought of a solution to the problem. 

“I can watch you some other time. You don’t need to worry about me on your day.”

“Oh, okay. Would you like to get lunch?”

“Sure. At a quiet place.”

A smile spread across her mocha colored skin as she said, “I know just the place.”


End file.
